


When a Hero Falls

by infinity500



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, F/M, Female Percy Jackson, Genderbending, M for foul language, Percy doesn't know what to do with her life, Post Giant War, Post-Tartarus (Percy Jackson), Self-Destruction, Sort Of, Survivor Guilt, The Seven are dead, Underage Drinking, do i tag for language?, oh yeah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-12 23:29:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13557870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infinity500/pseuds/infinity500
Summary: Percella Jackson was lost when she learns she was home all along.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Do you guys use disclaimers? Well I don't own PJO, sadly. Percy would be obviously bi if I did.  
> Also foul language. You've been warned.

The New York skyline shined brightly against the pitch black sky of night. The dark brooding clouds rolled over the horizon, snuffing out - what was to be - a beautiful sunset. The heavens roared in rage and cried a million tears of agony. It was a night to stay in and take shelter from the storm; the perfect excuse to cuddle up to a loved one for warmth and comfort.  

But instead, there was one lonely person wandering the equally lonely streets of Manhattan with a bottle of vodka as her only company. She was in her late teens and seemed to have no destination in mind.

She continued to meander through the labyrinth that is the city's streets at a lazy pace until she hit Fifth Avenue. More specifically between West 33rd and 34th Streets. She stared up at the colossal building that seemed to just touch the sky. The steel illuminated by the lightning flashing around it made it glow silver. The Empire State Building, a show of industrial might and host to Olympus, stood before her in all its glory.

Shrugging, she entered. Vodka bottle and all, she walked up to the security guard and asked for the 600th floor. That conversation didn't go over well. 

 

"HI!" 

 

"Um, hello. Can I help you?" 

 

"Yes, yes you can. I want to go to the 600th floor, please." 

 

The guard looked bored and answered with the usual, "there is no 600th floor," speech. 

 

"Oh come on. Not that lame excuse again," she groaned. 

 

He raised an unimpressed eyebrow. 

 

"Just give me the key." 

 

"No." 

 

"Not even for some vodka?" The teen asked, waving the bottle in front of him in a tempting manner. 

 

"No. And where did you get vodka from anyway?" 

 

She shrugged. "From the bodega on 4th." 

 

The silence was awkward as the night guard turned back to his magazine. The 18 year old girl leaned back and forth on her feet before she had enough.

  

"So you won't give me the key." 

 

"Yes." 

 

"Well you just admitted to there being a 600th floor if you won't give be the key." 

 

The guard slammed down his magazine, apparently having enough of her nagging, only to be met by a cheeky grin. Knowing her type of teen, it would only satisfy the girl to kick her out. Instead he picked up his magazine again, ignoring her after responding as calmly as possible. 

"No, I'm not giving you a key because there isn't one to the 600th floor. Now, if there is nothing else then I am going to have to ask you to leave." 

She pouted and huffed in annoyance before pulling a pen out of her pocket.

 

Shink. 

 

The guard looked up at the sound and saw that the girl now had a glowing bronze sword that she held against her shoulder as she leaned against the desk, completely casual. 

 

"I'm so not in the mood for this." She said before taking a swing from the bottle, still completely at ease. "So give me the key and I'll be one my merry way and you on your" She looked around for the words "rather dull one I guess," she finished.  

  

She punctuated the statement by pointing the once dormant sword at him. 

 

He gulped before handing over the key card. 

 

\- Ω -

 

Upon her arrival on Olympus (after enduring the gods awful elevator music [she had to remember to tell Apollo to change that {oh who was she kidding. She wasn't going to live past tonight}]), she looked around the village and decided to take advantage of this visit to the immortal city. She danced with the nymphs, swam with the dryads, sang with the muses, and talked with some of the immortal residents and minor gods. By the time she made it to the throne room she had caught up on the grapevine's newest gossip, made some new friends, and wore a large goofy grin. 

 

She burst into the throne room with all the dramatic flair of her Uncle Zeus and was ready to announce herself, only to find it empty. With a careless shrug, she sauntered in, taking the occasional sip of 'refreshment' while snooping around. 

 

She sat in the middle of the empty throne room, aware of the gods' focus on her, when she was done. Leaning back, she look at the night sky, so filled with stars, painted on the ceiling. Catching sight of the Huntress constellation, she felt her mood dip and a light frown settle on her face.  

 

Not liking it (she came out to have fun after all), she quickly figured annoying Ares and picking a fight would lift her mood, or at least leave her feeling something other than sadness. 

 

"Ares!" she shouted, hearing it echo multiple times before fading away.  

 

She waited.  

When there was no response, she started making fun of him until there was bright flash of red and Ares finally showed up. 

 

"What do you want punk?" he spoke in a gruff voice, full of irritation. 

"Oh! I'm sorry. Did I interrupt you nap time?" she snarked. 

 

"Yes. Now what do you want?" 

 

She blinked. Well this was unexpected. Everyone seemed to have a low tolerance for her usual impertinence. 

 

"Straight to the point then." 

 

The war god nodded, still emotionless. 

 

"Well I thought it was obvious. I want a fight." 

 

Now it seemed it was the god's turn to blink in shock and confusion. 

 

"Wait, what? Why?" 

 

Another trend today seemed to be making things difficult for her. But wasn't that every day? She had no good answer to that. 

 

She rolled her eyes at him. "Because I can and I want to. Any more questions?"

 

Ares was at a loss of words. She was obviously very drunk if the half empty bottle of vodka was anything to go by. But more than that, he had no idea why she would ever challenge him. Last time was for Hades' Helm but this had nothing riding on it. No wars, and no danger of impending doom, so for the life of him, he could not understand why? 

His best bet was to bring her to her father. 

 

"Hey! Let go! I said a fight not a freak'n kidnapping." 

 

He dragged her to the doors of the throne room, kicking and screaming curses, before turning to her. 

 

"Listen to yourself, Percy. You're drunk. I'm taking you to your father."  

 

She yanked her arm out of his grasp before shoving him back. 

 

"I'm not going anywhere." She stated with a glare. "Just because you're a big bad god doesn't mean you get to boss me around. I'm my own person, a legal adult, and I can to what I want."  

Ares simply raised an eyebrow at her outburst, wondering where all her sudden anger had come from. When she went in for another shove, he caught her wrist and pulled her close. He grinned while his brow furrowed, unnoticeably, in concern. 

 

"You are in no condition to fight, Percy." 

 

Her eyes narrowed dangerously before a knee slammed into his gut, making him double over at the unexpected pain only to be handed a mean upper cut that sent him reeling back. When he straightened up, rubbing his jaw, he saw her smirk before taking a drink from the bottle and addressing him.  

 

"I'm totally up for a fight. Are you sure you're not just chicken?"  

 

She said it with a type of drunken laziness that it just made something in him snap. He stalked up to her and shook her by the shoulders, trying to knock some sense into her. 

 

"What is wrong with you?" he asked. In anger, confusion, worry? He didn't know but it didn't matter.  

 

For the first time since he saw her, her face showed something other than her drunken, goofy, and smug grin, but it was nothing pleasant. Her expression had darkened to a bitter shadow of the once infuriatingly carefree grin that he now missed. 

 

She threw her head back and laughed. It was so hollow it was near terrifying. But nothing was scarier than the unhinged look she gave him as she replied to his question. 

 

"Oh many things, Ares. But that's nothing new." 

 

The smile she wore was arrogant but all too obviously forced and she wasn't looking at him but down in to her bottle, presumably to see how much was left. She risked a glance at him as she shimmied out of his grasp but it was enough for him to finally get it. Her usually vivid and lively sea green eyes were dull and murky, void of the fire that made the daughter of the sea a hero. They were dulled with grief that he had mistaken for intoxication. She wasn't drunk, never was. She was grieving in a very self-destructive way. She wanted a fight, not to spar but to somehow distract herself from her sorrows. As the god of war he had seen enough battles and been the lover of enough soldiers to know the scars war leaves on its victims. The hero of Olympus was the epitome of survivor's guilt and self-loathing because of it.  

His shock soon wore off and he knew just what to do to alight her inner spark. He shook his head and watched her take a swing of what was probably not alcohol. He turned to the throne room doors to leave when she called him out with insults of being a coward.  

 

"I don't accept challenges from cowards." Was his only response. As he reached for the door, he looked back at her and saw that he had broken through some of her defenses if her stunned expression was anything to go by. She composed herself quickly but not fully. She smirked, what was supposed to be carefree but was nothing less than self-deprecating, before taking another drink (he was surprised it was not empty by now). 

 

"What makes you say that?" Her voice was strained and tone too serious to pass off as uncaring. 

 

"You hide from your problems behind that bottle of yours."  

She pause mid-drink, pulling the bottle away from her lips to look at the label. The bottle was black with silver branches wrapped around it. 

  

"Belvedere Intense Vodka. Imported from Poland. Supposedly some of the strongest stuff on earth and cost 43 bucks." The bitter smile was back. 

  

"You want?" He blinked before shaking his head no. She shrugged. 

 

"More useless vodka for me then." she stated before downing the whole bottle. She studied the bottle again.  

 

"Strongest stuff on earth my ass." She muttered before dropping the bottle. It shattered on contact with the pristine white marble. He could feel an overwhelming aura of rage ripple through out the room. The god was sure the demigod felt it too but she showed no sign of having felt it. She didn't flinch at that and she didn't flinch when some of the glass cut her leg. She showed no pain or fear. She seemed empty. She then raised her head from where she stared at the shattered glass, her bangs moving out of her face revealing an expression of malicious glee. 

  

"Well that was my last bottle and you're no fun so I'll be going." She walked past him but he grabbed her arm before she could leave. She put up no fight, only sending him a dirty look of warning. 

 

"What now?" she snapped. 

 

"You can't just go drink away your problems, Percy." 

 

"You don't think I don't know that? I can't even get drunk if I wanted too." His brows furrowed in confusion. He knew she wasn't drunk but had never thought that she simply had an inability to be drunk. And if she wasn't trying to get drunk then what was she doing? 

 

"Just leave me alone." Her voice was tired and defeated. He hated it.  

 

"I get that you're grieving. But you can't waste the life you have been gifted with. Your friends wouldn't have wanted that. They died so yo-" 

 

"SHUT UP!" she exploded; her rage being tapped into. She ripped her arm out of his grasp and glared at him with all her might. A fire could be seen behind the sorrow and madness that lit her green eyes with all the fury of the 7 seas and promised him all the horrors of the ocean depths. The sight was beautifully terrifying and a large part of him felt his respect for her grow at the sight of the true hero and savior of Olympus.  

 

"Shut the FUCK up! You don't get anything! You have never lost friends you would gladly die for. They died yes but not for me. Not just for me but for all of their friends and family. And I was ready to do the same. So it's just stupid that they died and I'm still here!" By now tears had made her eyes glassy but they never once lost their fire and resolve. 

 

"How would you know what they wanted for me? Huh?"  

 

She shoved him back. 

  

"How do you know that they would have wanted me to move on with my life?" 

 

Another shove. 

 

"How would you know?! Did you know them? Know their stories? Were you there to put them all back together only to watch them fall apart? Were you their shoulder to cry on? Where were you? Sitting on your ass on that throne of yours no doubt. You have no right. You can't speak for them. You didn't know them. So you. Have. No. Right!" 

 

With each sentence she shoved him back towards the center of the throne room before the shoves became more forceful and soon enough became punches. He took them, withstood her rage, and became the personal punching bag she wanted and need since she called to him. 

 

"And this life!" Her rage was at its peak. No more pulling her punches or holding back. She punched him square in the face, causing him to stumble. 

 

"This life that you call a gift! Its only a curse. My life ended when the last heart stopped beating. They were my life. All of them!" By this time she had tears streaming from her eyes but they were still as intimidating as ever, still lit by an inner fire that burned bright. 

 

"I have nothing to live for!" she screamed. She threw a final punch that was caught by her wrist. It was then that she realized that had poured out her heart and soul to the god. Her eyes widened at the realization but she was too emotionally drained to do much more than slump forward into his chest and hold back any remaining tears. He must have known because instead of pushing her away, he hugged her close to him. 

 

"You once told my daughter that crying was not a sign of weakness but a sign of strength. How about you follow your own advice?" he whispered softly into her hair.  

 

And she complied, letting tears slip out of her eyes and slide down her face silently, all the while muttering how it wasn't fair. 

 

"I know" was the war god's reassurance being repeatedly whispered into her ear and neck. 

 

He knew nothing. 

 


	2. ...She Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is all in second person. So sorry if it get's confusing, I was experimenting a bit. Tell me what you think!

Everything's blurry and you know this is a dream. But it doesn't matter because you're in his arms, secure and safe from judgement as you sob pitifully into his chest like the child you truly are. The smell of leather is strangely comforting and you feel free to ramble on your list of grievances. He tells you that he understands, that he **knows**. You say nothing in reply. 

 

You think, 'He knows nothing.' 

\- Ω -

The scene's changed and so have you. You're numb. Your father had just ordered you to stay on Olympus.  

 

"It's for you own good." Your father tells you. Oh but you can only think of how cliché that line is.  

 

You're touched that your father cares and equally as hurt that he would imprison you here. A beautiful gilded cage that's still just a cage.  

 

You don't know how to feel so you feel nothing at all.  

 

The god beside you has a hand on the small of your back and it's the only thing that keeps you grounded lest you simply float away. He guides you to your new apartment and is about to leave you at the door when you grab his wrist. He's looking at you but you don't look back, can't stand to look back. So you stand, frozen, staring at the drift wood door, tracing the green and blue swirls till their memorized, and tightening your grip on the god's wrist when you come to a conclusion.  

 

This isn't a door.  

 

It's more than that. It's a portal to a new world, a new life; one that you're not ready to enter, never wanted to enter, and you're terrified by it.  

 

You can't - won't take that first step in.

 

So he turns the silver nob and does it for you.

\- Ω -

You don't forgive him for it. You never really will. But you do love him for it.  

He gave you a new life with purpose and meaning to it. You hate him for taking that choice from you and that you're forever indebted to him. But you still love him. You won't stop anytime soon.

\- Ω -

The first few months are the hardest. You let your anger and frustration set in and hold it close for protection.  

 

'He took everything I had left!' You think in your rage riddled mind, throwing an expensive looking vase at his head. It misses, smashing against the wall in a million tiny shards.  

 

"You had no right!" You scream at him, "No right at all!" 

 

"I saved your life!" He shouts in defense. 

 

You deny it, demanding that he get out, but the thought stays and you know that he's right.  

 

It still doesn't mean he knows anything.  

\- Ω -

Weeks pass and you're alone again. The nightmares get worst and start encroaching into the day. The realization sets in slowly but before you know it, your screaming, hoping for something to break the icy silence and for a moment, your own voice is enough. But your voice soon grows hoarse and even the echoes are silenced.  

 

You're alone again.

\- Ω -

You're in fetal position in the corner when he finds you. 

 

He tries to coax you out with apologies for leaving you alone, and you put up little fight because his flaming eyes are the warmest you've ever seen them and promise companionship.  

 

You curl up in his arms and sob on about your loneliness and he comforts you with his "I know"s. Unlike last time you were in his arms, you prepare to snap at him, demanding what it is exactly he **knows**. You face him, eyes burning, but you stop because his ever flaming orbs are now dim and dull, reduced to cinders by thousands of years worth of pain and sorrow, loss and loneliness.  

 

And you finally understand. You finally know that, yes he knows. 

 

Your eyes burn for a different reason now, so you sink down into his oh so safe arms and fall a little bit in love.

\- Ω -

Another few weeks pass but you're no longer alone. You learn to smile again, small at first but it's true and genuine; you can laugh again, light and musical like that of the child you are. You can sense the shift, the growing ease between the two of you and for once you're not afraid of this change.

 

 - Ω -

_The love that blooms is a slow but beautiful one._

_One that we, the fates, decree worthy of forever._   

 - Ω -

 

I open my eyes and he's there, the fiery orbs I so love bright with worry and heartwarming concern. I smile up at him, warm and bright, and the knot between his eyes melts away. Sitting up, I press a kiss to his lips and  feel content.  

 

Yes, I love him because he knows. He knows it all. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys all enjoyed that. This is the end of this story but I'm going to be reposting/crossposting some newer stuff here soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Another old work, slightly edited. Still trying to get the hang of things here. Thanks for all the kudos on my other work! I truly appreciate it! Hope everyone enjoyed this! Comments and kudos are much appreciated! ^.^


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